The Care and Feeding of Your Angry Andorian
by allakimbo
Summary: Vesta is injured and having trouble on the long road to recovery. How is it that the person she likes the least is the person she needs the most? COMPLETE! Epilogue now up!
1. How NOT to Soothe the Andorian Psyche

I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters created therein. Please read and enjoy, and let me know if what you think of it!

* * *

_Captain's Log, Stardate 42113.5 _

_After the severe injury to her leg on Palek 3, Security Chief Vesta appears to also suffer from psychological stress as well. Constant and awkward visits from concerned crewmates caused her to break into an uncontrollable rage and kill our science officer, Commander Japel. Lt. Vesta is currently awaiting trial in the brig._

Vesta kept playing the log through her head as she listened to Japel prattle on about the ship's maintenance procedures. The imaginary log served two purposes: 1. it kept her from actually breaking into an uncontrollable rage and 2. it was more interesting than whatever Japel was talking about now. She knew he was just being nice, they all were, but it was driving her _nuts_.

She looked down at her leg, still covered in small metal braces that worked to repair the injured bone and soft tissue. It didn't hurt—she could barely feel the light electrical pulses and Dr. Kincaide had administered anesthetic—but it did itch. She tried for the umpteenth time to wriggle her fingers underneath one of the braces to scratch.

Japel noticed the motion. "Uh, are you supposed to—"

"Lt. Vesta! I will tie your hands to that bed if I catch you disrupting those regenerators again!" Kincaide snapped from somewhere in sickbay. She popped her head out of her office and glared.

Vesta scowled but pulled her hand back. The doctor always seemed to know when she was sneaking a scratch. "It itches!"

"It does not. I told you, that is a psychosomatic reaction to the electrical currents. Now kindly keep your fingers out of their way!" Kincaide was normally mild-tempered, especially with patients, but the Andorian's difficult recovery was bringing out the worst in her bedside manner. Correction: the recovery was perfectly fine, Vesta's reaction to it was trying.

Japel shifted in his seat, uncomfortable because of both the exchange and seeing his crewmate incapacitated. Vesta calmed herself by visualizing his sympathetic expression suddenly being hit by a phaser beam. The image of an 8 foot tall headless Cecestan running through the corridors of the _Temura_ was almost enough to bring a smile to her face.

"Um, so…where were we?" And he was off again, telling her about the coolant flush on Deck 11 and all the excitement that entailed. It took nearly half an hour before he felt his duty wane and loped out of sickbay with a clear conscience.

All the visits from her crewmates had been like this. They didn't know what to say, what to do, where to look. At least Vesta could sit up now; having her colleagues express their concern while she was unable to do anything but lie there like a lump had been the worst. The prognosis for her recovery was good, Kincaide was convinced Vesta would get back all her motor skills and coordination, but everyone knew it was a long road. Kincaide was estimating at least a week before Vesta could be on light duty again. It meant supervising the security staff from her quarters with a PADD, but Vesta was anxious to get going. The strenuous physical therapy would probably last for at least three weeks.

The sickbay doors slid open and Vesta closed her eyes for a moment, sending a silent plea to all the gods of Andoria that it wasn't Jack Anderson coming to see her again. Jack had been with Vesta when the comm panel in the anthropology research lab on Palek three exploded and sent her tumbling down the side of a steep cliff. He had followed and found her unconscious form on the rocks below and had beamed her to the safety of the ship. Vesta was grateful, but Jack seemed to feel obligated to visit her at least twice a day and it was getting annoying.

Vesta's prayer was answered but the gods of Andoria stuck their tongues out at her by sending not Jack but Taurik her way. She frowned at him.

"What are you doing here?"

The Vulcan engineer had been conspicuous in his absence since her injury. Since he and Vesta often clashed horns, she had taken this as a sign that he was backing off while she recovered. After Japel's visit and the doctor's admonition (the third that day alone), Vesta was _not_ in the mood for another visitor, especially not this one. She fixed him with her hardest glare to tell him that. Maybe she'd get lucky. Maybe he was only here because he was injured, or better yet, infected with some virus. One that affected his vocal chords. Permanently.

No such luck.

"I came to inquire as to your recovery." He clasped his hands behind his back, regarding her as if she were a mildly interesting science project.

"I'm fine," she told him through gritted teeth.

"Is there something I can bring you, to aid in your relaxation or as an entertainment?"

"Yes, there is something you can do. You can get lost! You and the rest of the well-wishing goon squad! If I have to listen to one more report of ship's gossip, manifold maintenance, upcoming missions, or personal platitudes I will drag myself out of this sickbay and shoot myself out the nearest airlock! You want to entertain me? Let me out of this damn cast to kick your—"

"Lt. Vesta!" Kincaide had come out of her office and was staring, wide-eyed, at the Andorian.

Vesta stopped short. She hadn't realized she had been shouting but she had—raised up almost out of the bed, balanced on her good leg and clutching the sides of the frame with both hands. Suddenly she felt silly and childish. Deflated, she fell back and laid down, running a hand over her face.

"I will…come back another time, perhaps," she heard Taurik say. Even in the face of her gale-force temper he remained infuriatingly calm. _Vulcans_, she thought. The doors slid open and closed again and she knew he was gone.

She wondered how long it would be before everyone on the ship knew about her little temper tantrum and winced. Hardly the reputation the head of security should have.

Kincaide wisely left her alone for the rest of the day, even when Vesta managed to sneak a finger beneath the regenerators and scratched vigorously. As she dropped off to sleep that night Vesta wondered sleepily how she could un-ring this particular bell.

* * *

Lt. Jack Anderson was enjoying a drink in the Observation Lounge when Taurik slid into the seat next to him.

"You are not on duty?" Taurik asked his friend. He and Jack had become fast friends since their assignment to the _Temura_ three months ago. Jack, who was part Vulcan, appreciated Taurik's dry humor and insight while Taurik enjoyed talking to a human who understood the finer points of logic and emotional control, even if he didn't always exercise them.

"Just got off. I switched with Martinez so that the Borg Queen and I wouldn't have to work together on the new blinds," Jack replied, referring to the hidden outposts the anthropologists used to observe pre-warp cultures.

"Is she still angry with you?" The Borg Queen was what Jack had taken to calling Lt. Una Magis, the ship's away team coordinator.Because he was thefield engineer, she and Jack were supposed to work together on all the specialized technical equipment to be used for missions. She told him what was needed and why, he developed it, and her teams tested it. This process was somewhat disrupted by the fact that Una and Jack could hardly be in the same room with one another. Relations between them had not improved when Jack had brought a wounded Vesta back from Palek 3. The injury was far from Jack's fault, but since it had been a technical mishap that had started it and Jack was the ranking engineer present when it happened…

Jack sighed. "Still. Always, I think. She hasn't said two words to me for three days now."

Taurik raised an eyebrow. "How will you finish the blinds? Both of you must approve the final design and test it."

"Don't remind me," Jack said darkly and glared accusingly at the ice in the bottom of his drink, his good mood gone.

Taurik shifted in his seat. "I apologize, I did not mean to broach a subject that irritates you."

Jack looked at his friend, surprised by the apology. Courtesies such as apologies were not expected in Vulcan culture, to offer one where one was not due was unheard of.

"It doesn't. I mean," he backtracked, "yes, Una's behavior annoys me, but that doesn't mean talking about it does."

"This is the second time in less than an hour that I have triggered an unpleasant reaction from a colleague."

"Huh?" Now Jack was really confused.

"I visited Lt. Vesta earlier today."

"Ah." Now it was clear. "Japel was in here before you came. I don't think the chief is a happy camper right now." Taurik looked confused at this reference. "If she got snippy with you I don't think that's your fault. She's mad at herself for being incapacitated."

"Her response to my inquiry after her health was very…hostile." Taurik was not convinced by Jack's explanation.

"Trust me. Don't be offended by her, she's just going stir crazy."

Once Jack explained what "stir crazy" meant, Taurik allowed himself to be placated by this and vowed to try again with Lt. Vesta later.


	2. Sneaky Vulcans

I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters created therein. Please read and enjoy, and let me know if what you think of it!

JadziaKathryn: yes, Taurik is a bit unusual for a Vulcan. It's not that he's emotional, he's justsensitive to the emotional well-being of his friends. :) Thanks for the review!

shamelessplugIf you'd like to know more about the crew of the Temura, check out my first story in this series, First Impression/shamelessplug

* * *

"I can't do this!" Vesta thrust the PADD back toward Kincaide, flustered.

Kincaide took a wide step back and crossed her arms. "You can and you will, if you want to get better as quickly as possible."

Vesta narrowed her eyes. The doctor knew that's what she wanted more than anything, but to use it in that tone felt like blackmail. Vesta threw the PADD down on the bed where it landed and bounced slightly, turning over and sliding partially beneath the covers as though hiding from her.

"It's not that difficult," Kincaide's arms remained crossed, her stance defiant. Vesta knew she was fighting a losing battle; the doctor had the home field advantage, but still…

"Can't you give me some exercises that I can do alone?"

"There are some exercises that you can do alone there." Kincaide reached out for the discarded PADD, turning it over but leaving it on the bed. "Some of them require the assistance of another person."

"Who?" Vesta practically spat. To be laid up with an injury and visited by well-meaning but annoying shipmates was one thing, to have someone hold her while she re-learned walking was quite another. It was something she was not willing to concede to yet.

"We'll start out here, in sickbay. Either me or one of the nurses will assist you," Kincaide told her, already picking out the nurses she would assign to the task. Sometimes it was good to be the boss, especially when an angry Andorian was in your care. "We are all professionals here, Vesta. We only care about getting you fit again for active duty."

Well. There was really nothing Vesta could say to that so she kept her mouth shut, agreeing via her silence to start the first session that evening.

* * *

"She…I'm sorry, can you repeat that?" Commander Bohemir asked. He was seated on the slender couch in the captain's Ready Room, listening to a very tired Doctor Kincaide.

"She kicked him," Kincaide repeated crossly. "Nurse Otama leaned over to help her get back up and she walloped him in the face."

"At least her leg is improving," Captain Sovak ignored Bohemir's attempt to stifle a huge grin. Being Vulcan, Sovak felt no such inclination. In all honesty, he failed to see the humor in the situation at all.

"She kicked him with her good leg!" Kincaide almost wailed.

Bohemir stopped trying and laughed. The doctor gave him a look of disgust.

"Sit down Helen. Let me get you a cup of tea," Bohemir told her. She allowed him to request one from the replicator. Seated and sipping, she felt a good deal calmer.

"How many sessions does her will her therapy entail?" asked Sovak, stirring his own cup of Darjeeling.

"Twelve total. I don't know that you can count this evening's session as it only lasted 15 minutes and ended with me applying a hypostimulus pad to Lt. Otama's nose."

"What brave soul is next on the roster?" Bohemir asked, his grin fading to a warm smile.

Dr. Kincaide eyed him over her teacup. "I probably will take over," she told him. Once news of tonight's escapade got around the medical staff she might have a mutiny on her hands if she tried to assign anyone else to the task. "But that's beside the point."

"Oh?" Sovak raised his eyebrows.

"I can guide her through the motions, but if she doesn't want to do it, it won't work. She needs to be motivated."

"Perhaps I should have a word with her?"

"No, captain, I don't think that's necessary at this point. I really think once she starts the program I've designed for her and feels her strength coming back, she'll come around on her own."

"If you say so, doctor," Bohemir raised his cup in a salute to her.

* * *

Within three days Dr. Kincaide began to wish she _hadn't_ said so. Working with Lt. Vesta was like working with a rock and a hard place. Literally.

The security chief performed every move that was required, but did so grudgingly and in stony silence. When left on her own to do solo exercises she exerted herself far too much and strained her already weakened body. These setbacks threw her into an emotional cycle alternating between depression and resentment.

This was the state of affairs that Taurik unwittingly walked into when he finally got around to paying Vesta another visit. Fortunately sickbay was empty when he entered so he had a moment to steel himself. He peeked in the doctor's office—no one there either. Folding his hands behind his back, he decided to wait a few minutes before trying another time.

Vesta's bed was easy to pick out, it was the only one with tangled sheets and two pillows propped against the tilted head; he ambled over to it. Something glinted from beneath the sheets. A PADD, he realized, his eyes focusing beneath cocked eyebrows. It was not in his nature—not in any Vulcan's nature, to be more precise—to snoop through someone else's things, so he ignored it.

A loud grunt and a very nasty Andorian word made him completely forget it, in fact. The noise came from the far side of the room, behind a glass paneled door marked "Physical Therapy/Assessment." Through the glass he could see Vesta struggling to her feet. The doctor tried to help her up but got her hand slapped away for her trouble. A lock of hair had come loose from Dr. Kincaide's disheveled ponytail and she had shed her long blue medical coat. She looked decidedly tired and frustrated, Taurik decided.

But she looked like the picture of emotional calm compared to Vesta, he realized. He had read human books where a protagonist or villain was said to "shoot daggers" from his eyes. Taurik had thought it to be simply a figure of speech, but the look Vesta was aiming at the doctor told him this was not the case.

Vesta finally made it to her feet—unaided—and the two women put themselves into position once more. The doctor, he saw, was holding Vesta's arms to steady her while the Andorian wobbled forward, trying to walk.

Suddenly Taurik understood Vesta's plight. To an Andorian, especially one with the rank of Chief of Security, to require assistance for a task as simple as walking was both a humiliation and an insult. Taurik's father had been an ambassador on Andoria for 17 years—how many times had he seen and Andorian refuse medical care for a trivial injury? They were a very proud people; Vesta's recovery would be difficult and longer than necessary because of it.

What should he do? He knew what he should do: leave it alone. It bothered him, though. She was being stubborn and making everyone in sickbay miserable. The entire medical staff was on the verge of packing Vesta into a torpedo and sending her off in the direction of the Klingons. Given her predisposition to both refuse help and insult the person offering it, why was he letting this trouble him?

Well…it must be because this was not logical behavior. Yes, that was it. He could live with that answer, although a tiny whisper in the back of his mind—the illogical part that he sectioned off and ignored—was amused when he came up with this reason. He smothered that little voice and turned his mind to the problem at hand.

What to do? He could confront Vesta, but—

"Dammit, you have to do this one, you pigheaded, mule-stubborn—"

The doctor's voice rang out from behind the glass door, then faded as she lowered her voice again.

What had he been saying? Oh yes, confront Vesta. Hmm. Seemed like others had that avenue pretty well covered and it wasn't doing any good.

That left being sneaky. Taurik shook his head. He was no good at being sneaky. Where should he start?

What would Jack do? he wondered. Jack had lied through his teeth, as the human saying went, to Una when they first met, letting her believe he was a thief and a smuggler. He had kept up the charade through their ragged adventures in an Orion slave market, an abandoned Vulcan science station, and a Klingon battleship. Yes, if anyone would know where to start, it would be Jack.

Taurik thought furiously, staring blankly at the foot of Vesta's bed. His eyes wandered and struck on the PADD lying in the sheets. He picked it up; it was filled with what he presumed to be her physical therapy regimen. As he read through the pages of exercises a vague plan began to form in his mind.

When the doors to the physical therapy room slid open and a sweaty, unhappy doctor and an angry Andorian stumbled through them, sickbay was empty once more.


	3. A Cunning Plan?

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of the characters therein.

* * *

Taurik, Jack discovered, had a memory he envied and a penchant for punishment he didn't. He furrowed his brow at the PADD the Vulcan had handed him, which held a near-perfect re-creation of Vesta's exercise roster. Taurik, arms crossed, watched him expectantly.

"Let me get this straight. Our lovable Andorian doesn't want your help."

Taurik nodded shortly. "Correct."

"In fact she doesn't even know you have this information."

"Correct."

"And she would blow an antenna if she knew you had it."

"Also correct."

"But you want me to help you cook up a scheme to help her anyway?"

"If by "cook up a scheme" you mean devise an alternate therapy regimen, then yes. It is not so devious as you make it sound."

Jack leaned back in his chair. "She's still going to kill you if she ever finds out, right?"

"Correct."

Jack squinted one eye at his friend and looked him over. "This is very strange behavior for a Vulcan, you know."

Taurik raised an eyebrow. "Indeed." Jack knew he wouldn't get any more out of the engineer. If Taurik was doing this, then he must believe there to be some logical reasoning behind it.

The Observation Lounge was nearly empty as it was close to 0100 when the two finally decided on a reasonable course of action. It was pretty good, Jack had to admit. For a people that claimed they did not lie, Vulcans sure could be sly. There was just one tiny little hitch that needed to be worked out before they could proceed…

"I will speak to her," Taurik told him, seeing his friend's dread. "I have known her longer and she will be more likely to listen."

Jack rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "No, no, I'll do it. She'll come to me anyway since we're both working on it, so I may as well cut out the middleman. She won't suspect anything if it's me."

Taurik nodded. It might not be wise, but he supposed it was logical. "That is likely. Do not put it off too long."

"And delay the inevitable at the hands of the Borg Queen? You know what they say: resistance it futile."

* * *

Jack smiled to himself. So far the plan was going perfectly. Of course, so far all he had done was hand a PADD to Una. She hadn't even said anything yet…

"What are you smiling at?"

"Huh?" He snapped out of it.

Una was staring at him, head cocked to one side, hands on her hips. "You're grinning like an idiot and staring off into space."

"Oh…uh…I'm just happy to have that draft of the plans for the new blinds out of the way," he told her hurriedly. "It's a relief to be ahead of schedule."

Una nodded and turned to a nearby console as an ensign tapped her on the shoulder. The communications lab was humming more than its normal mid-morning activity. Like many lab areas on the ship, it contained a pleasant mix of both Starfleet and civilian personnel, today a double shift of both were working. Jack had specifically chosen to bring the blueprints to Una while the linguists were completing a difficult upgrade of the Universal Translator—the more distracted she was, the better.

Just as he was preparing to make his escape—er, exit, Una turned back and waved the PADD at him.

"This is over a week early, Jack. What gives? Got a hot date you want to clear your schedule for?"

"Who me?" he gave her a flip grin and headed out the door as the ensign called her attention to the screen again. Hmm. Maybe that was a good idea, actually.

She frowned and watched him leave before turning back to Ensign Lovatz. What was he up to? She was sure there was something going on here.

_Oh, it's nothing_, a little voice inside her head laughed at her. _Maybe he really _does_ have a hot date_.

Her frown deepened.

* * *

"It won't work."

_Well, that didn't take long_, Jack thought. He was standing in the field testing lab discussing how to increase tricorder sensitivity over long range scans with Lt. L'Diya Nakeet.

L'Diya was a new transfer aboard the Temura and one of the only Orion women in Starfleet. Despite the fact that she wore her hair in a blunt cut and her uniform a size too large to hide her figure, she was beautiful. Like many Orion women she took pheromone suppressants to minimize the effect she had on males, but the look on Una's face told Jack that whoever came up with that idea hadn't taken the female reaction to L'Diya into account.

Una scowled at the young woman. "Lovely to see you, Lt. Nakeet," she said in a tone that made Andoria seem positively tropical.

"What won't work?" Jack asked politely. He was a little miffed. He had just about decided to ask L'Diya for a drink after their shift was over. She was a nice kid and she made him laugh…unlike _some_ people. Trust Una to barge in at just the right—or make that wrong—moment.

"I think I'll let you two discuss this," L'Diya told no one in particular, and scooted off as fast as her long legs would take her. Jack's eyes followed her out the door.

Una snapped her fingers. "Earth to Jack." He focused his eyes on her. She let out a disgusted sigh. "So predictable."

"What?"

"Nothing," she shook her head and raised the PADD again. "This design won't work."

_Easy now, easy now…_ "Whaddya mean it won't work?"

"I mean it does not outline a functional structure. On the PADD it looks okay but in real life there are flaws."

"It was only a first draft," Jack defended it. "Of course there are flaws. We can work them out."

"No, the whole thing needs to be redesigned." Una was adamant.

"So what's wrong with it?" Jack baited, hoping she got it right.

"I know it looks like it will work, but when implemented in rough terrain it won't be stable. It's a security risk."

_Bingo._ Jack took the PADD from her hands and flipped through the data as incredulously as he could. "Looks fine to me."

"I'm telling you, it's defective. Did you run a simulation of it yet?"

"Not yet, but I'm telling you, this will work. I mean, I am an engineer, you know."

Her nostrils flared slightly. "I realize I am a mere mortal in the face of greatness. You'll see it's not viable when you run it through the sim."

"Whatever you say," Jack smirked.

Una left in a huff. Jack exhaled sharply and leaned against the computer. He tapped his communicator.

"Anderson to Taurik."

"_Taurik here_," his friend answered through the ether.

"Borg Queen on the move, the bait has hooked the fish. Repeat, the bait has hooked the fish."

Taurik was silent on the other end.

"Did you copy that?"

"_I heard your communication, yes. I do not, however, know what you said_."

Jack sighed. He had to get that Vulcan some spy novels!

"Sorry. Una was just here. She looked over the schematics and found the problems with it. The ball is in your court, fly package to port, repeat, fly—"

"I heard you the first time. Thank you, Lt. Anderson." The comm went abruptly dead.

* * *

In engineering, Commander Arima regarded Taurik curiously as he slapped his comm badge silent.

"Problem, lieutenant?" the chief engineer inquired.

"No sir. My apologies."

Arima nodded, wondering what the two of them were up to.


	4. Blind Justice

_Captain's Log, Stardate 43121.8_

_After much deliberation and intensive interrogation, we have decided to release the prisoner to her own recognizance. A risky move, perhaps, but there is no longer any legitimate reason to hold her. I suspect keeping her in captivity much longer would have caused a massive psychological implosion that would have taken most of the ship with it. She will be required to return to her prison for regular torture sessions, however._

Dr. Kincaide had made that very clear upon Vesta's departure: she would return for physical therapy. Calling them torture sessions hadn't really gone over very well, so she kept that to herself in her new imaginary log.

Vesta schlumped along the corridor toward her quarters, leaning on Commander Bohemir's arm. She didn't like having him assist her, but as he was the second in command, she kept this to herself as well. He had insisted on escorting her back to her quarters, she couldn't refuse.

"I imagine you'll be glad to get back to work, lieutenant. Personally," he looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice, "I don't know how you stood it. I hate sickbay."

Vesta half expected Dr. Kincaide's voice to ring out behind them, "I heard that!" She smiled. Her leg dragged slightly but there was at least some mobility now—and no metal braces. It was now thankfully free of any gadgets.

"I did a lot of visualization." No need to mention that a lot of it was about beaming various well-wishers into the reactor core.

"I'll bet." Bohemir slid her a sideways glance. In spite of herself, she laughed.

They reached her quarters and she punched in her security code. The door slid open…and her smile slid away.

Inside stood Japel, Jack, Marista Yale, and Taurik.

Marista noticed the change in Vesta's demeanor. "Oh, don't worry, we aren't staying. We just wanted to say hello…and goodbye. We know we've been insufferable with our visits, but you're a valuable member of the crew and we're all very happy that you're recovering so well." Ever the diplomatic envoy, Marista smiled serenely.

Japel's craggy grin was lopsided with amusement. "In other words, we'll leave you alone now."

_Hooray!_ Vesta cheered internally as they exited her quarters.

"But call us if you want some company," Jack called over his shoulder as he went out the door.

"I do not imagine she will." Taurik told him as he left last, giving her one of those famous expressionless Vulcan nods. Vesta willed them all out the door, her antennae practically quivering with relief at being back in her own quarters.

Her celebration was cut short as Taurik paused at the door and turned back to her. "I need to speak with you before I go, lieutenant."

She didn't want to talk to him, especially not after she practically attacked him in sickbay, but she felt she owed Taurik one. He hadn't spread news of her outburst around the ship and she was grateful for that. Reluctantly, she nodded.

Taurik stepped back and stood just inside the doorframe, unwilling to invade her space any farther. "Lts. Anderson and Magis are…having difficulty with a project they are working on."

"So what's new?"

"Yes, I realize this is hardly surprising. They are unable to reach a consensus as to the design of the newly modified anthropology blinds. They have been arguing about it for more than three days now."

Vesta sat herself down on the couch and propped her foot up on a low table. Taurik made no move to join her. "So?" What was he getting at?

"Jack believes his design to be sound, Una is sure there are irreparable flaws in the security of the structure."

Now Vesta's antennae pricked up. "Security flaws? Like what?"

"I would like to send you the plans and get your opinion on that, if you are willing to look them over."

"Sure, I need something besides duty rosters and schedule rotations to keep me busy," Vesta told him, happy that someone was treating her like the Head of Security again.

Taurik nodded and left.

_Package flown to port_, he thought as he exited. _Whatever that means_.

* * *

Well, it looked like Una was right. Vesta sat back and rubbed her eyes. She had spent three hours examining the charts Taurik sent her, and another two cross-referencing previous designs for similar structures. Her antennae drooped from exhaustion, but it felt good to work again.

There was really only one way to be sure about it, though…she knew what she had to do. Hesitating only a fraction of a second, she activated her communicator.

"Vesta to Taurik."

* * *

"I still do not think this is a wise plan." Taurik shifted his weight and let the angry Andorian rest momentarily, hopping slightly on her good leg.

"Did I ask?" she shot at him. "Anyway, if you thought this was such a bad idea, why did you agree to it?" She wasn't wild about having Taurik help her, but she didn't want either Jack or Una to know she was butting into their work. Well, not until she had something to show for it, anyway. If Taurik didn't want her to help, he never should have asked her, she reasoned.

"I did not agree to it. If you recall, you informed me that you would be conducting this simulation with or without my help."

They reached to door to the field testing lab and shuffled their way through it. The lab consisted of an open area littered with testing equipment and parts replicators as well as a small holodeck for running limited simulations. At 0200 it was completely empty, just as Vesta had hoped.

Taurik helped her to one of the consoles and she pulled up and loaded the simulation program for the new blinds into the holodeck. As they moved toward the doors Taurik mentally ticked off all the exercises they had so far done from her roster. Not many, but the morning was young.

The holodeck doors parted, revealing a desert landscape. The anthropology blind was 1/3 of the way up a cliff disguising itself as a steep hill. It lay beyond what seemed to Vesta to be insurmountable boulders and crags. In reality it wasn't bad, but for her injured leg it would be a rough climb.

"That's the simulation?"

"The design fails in rough terrain, so yes, that is the simulation." He glanced sideways at her. "If you like we can reprogram it to be more gentle topography…"

Vesta stiffened visibly. "It's fine." She started forward. She said nothing more as she set to work climbing the side of the hill, grunting and sweating from exertion. A hand grasped her elbow and pulled her up to a relatively stable boulder. She jerked away from Taurik's assistance.

"Lieutenant," he said calmly, "the approach to the blind is one of the points being tested in this simulation. If you do not make it to the entryway—"

"I'll make it," she practically snarled.

"I have no doubt. My goal is simply to complete this test as thoroughly as possible." She calmed a bit so he continued to direct her up the slope. "Lt. Magis believes this approach decreases the effectiveness of the transporter as it might interfere with the holo-generators."

Vesta thought about this. "It might…" within minutes she was so absorbed in addressing possible problems with the blind that she seemed oblivious to the fact that Taurik helped her the rest of the way to the entrance and led her inside.

* * *

By 0600 they had not only discovered every fault and possible security breach in the simulated blind but Vesta had devised ways to correct most of them.

"The rest of them I leave to Jack," she told Taurik as the pair staggered toward the door. She was utterly exhausted but happier than she had been in weeks. She was using not only her mind but her body as well. Though it was worn and crying out from the exertion, it felt great. Taurik had not asked once if the strain was too much or how she was feeling. Strange how someone so unemotional seemed to know exactly how she was feeling and what she needed to invigorate her healing process.

Though Taurik gave no sign of fatigue he too was glad the night was over. Vesta had unknowingly completed nearly every portion of one of her physical therapy sessions and had plans to return to thesimulation that evening.

The Andorian yawned hugely as they entered the lab. Two ensigns on morning shift looked startled as they popped out of the holodeck, then exchanged wide-eyed glances. Someone was helping Lt. Vesta walk? And he was still alive? They backed away, just to be on the safe side.

"Tell Jack and Una that I'll come by the lab tonight to show them what I found. Then we can get to work on fixing it."

"I will inform them," Tauriktold her solemnly. "Thank you for your assistance, Lieutenant."

Vesta regardedhimjust as solemnly. "Thank youfor bringing this to my attention."

"It seemed the logical course of action."


	5. Epilogue

Epilogue

_Three Weeks Later_

"Is it advisable to move from a defensive strategy to an offensive one if it is likely that one's position is indeed weaker than one's opponent?" Taurik asked.

Jack, Taurik, Vesta and Japel sat around a table in the Observation Lounge.

Japel laughed, a deep bass rumbling from somewhere in the depths of his massive body. Cecestans might look fearsome with their cracked, mud-colored skin and huge stature but their laughs were downright jolly.

"You mean, should you raise a bet and bluff?" Jack finished shuffling and dealt out five cards to each of his colleagues. "That's entirely up to you, my logical friend. But I want you to know I'm not falling for this "I'm just a poor little Vulcan who's never played poker before" schtick. Una told me Lt. Lavelle had a regular game going back on Enterprise."

Taurik raised an eyebrow, unreadable as always.

Laughing, Vesta picked up her cards and proceeded to best her shipmates with two pairs: Queens and threes.

"That does it for me," she told them, scooping up the pile of chips from the center of the table. "I'll quite while I'm ahead. I have to be on duty in ten minutes anyway." She scooted back in her chair and departed. Her walk was steady, no trace of her injury remained in her gait or her attitude.

Taurik watched her depart. They had barely spoken in the weeks following her renovation of the anthropology blinds, but something subtle had changed between them. If Vesta realized what Taurik had done, she wasn't saying—and the Vulcan wasn't going to press the point. The gambit had worked admirably and paid off on all fronts, anyway. She was making a real effort to extend her respect for him beyond simple professional courtesy. He was satisfied enough that peace, order, and good health had been restored to his crewmate.

"I'm done too, I guess." Japel looked forlornly at his depleted pile of chips.

Jack laughed. "You'll get better, I guarantee it."

Japel didn't look convinced as he headed for the bar for a consolation drink.

"He's the worst poker player I've ever seen," he confided to Taurik once he was out of earshot. "We have to keep him in the game."

"A noble sentiment," Taurik replied.

"You two seem to be good at noble deeds," a familiar voice over Jack's shoulder said. He twisted to see Una standing behind him. She moved around and sat down between the two of them.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, his mind racing. What had he done now?

"I know about the blinds."

Oh. _That_. "What about them?" he asked casually.

"I couldn't figure it out for the longest time, but then Vesta mentioned how helpful working on the simulation for them was for her recovery. She said it really kick-started the program for her. Did you know she even convinced Kincaide to count her sessions with us as physical therapy?"

Jack suddenly found the sconces on the ceiling very interesting; Taurik's face was stone.

Una grinned. "Uh-huh. That's what I thought. It was a very sweet thing the two of you did."

"Aw shucks," Jack ran a hand through his dark hair, standing some of it on end. Una's smile widened. He leaned toward her. "_Never_ tell her. _Please_. She'll kill us," he stage-whispered.

Una leaned forward and whispered back. "Your secret is safe with me. I won't even _say_ blackmail."

"Gee, thanks."

They stared at one another, smiling with their heads almost touching, for a moment.

"Jack?"

L'Diya stood beside the table. "Do you still want to get that drink?" she asked.

Jack looked back at Una. Her expression hadn't changed but he thought he saw it waver for a moment.

"Sorry…" he offered lamely. Why did he feel so bad about this? He and Una only ever fought or ignored each other.

"Oh no, don't let me hold you up," she waved a hand. "Nice to see you, Lt. Nakeet."

He turned back to L'Diya and stood. "Well then, after you." He held his hand out in a flourish and led her away to the bar.

Una sighed and slumped in her seat. Beside her, Taurik said nothing, only raised an eyebrow.

"Oh shut up," she told him.


End file.
